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Heat Seeker	By : swordqueen Category: Transformers > G1 > Slash - M/M Views: 4669 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Hasbro or Transformers, and I make no money doing this. :(

Chapter List
- 3
- 4
A/N: All good things, including PWP, must come to an end. But here, a happy ending. (Snerk!) Hope you liked! This was my very first foray into STICKY and I think I went a little overboard! :P
4.
Prowl gave instructions boringly enough that almost, ALMOST, Skywarp didn’t want to go through with it. Bored sexless. Still, he was going to finally get closer to what he wanted. He lay fairly contentedly on the berth, squirming only a little as his thigh armor brushed his valve.
Bluestreak loomed over him, throwing one leg over his body. Even now, he didn’t smile, but his spike was erect and his eyes were eager. Skywarp rolled to his back, spreading his legs. Bluestreak hung for a moment over him, taking it all in. “Primus, been dreaming about you,” he breathed.
“No talking,” Prowl snapped.
“Can I touch him? I mean, beyond the obvious?”
Prowl hesitated. Skywarp overrode him. “Yes.” He ran his own hands down the Autobot’s bulky chest armor, feeling him shiver.
“No talking from you, either, Skywarp, or the whole thing is off.”
“I get noisy.”
“Just…watch your mouth.”
Bluestreak placed a hand on his wing, tentatively, stroking the broad flat surface. Skywarp closed his eyes, shivering with pleasure. He ran the hand over the wing, across the cockpit. Skywarp’s ventilation grew ragged. His own hands sought out joins in the Autobot’s armor, teasing the sides of the plates, under them to the wiring and power cables. Bluestreak groaned.
“Okay if I kiss you?”
“No talking!”
Bluestreak looked over at Prowl, angrily. “Asking permission.”
“Oh.”
Skywarp pulled the Autobot’s face down to his, licking at his lips until Bluestreak’s mouth covered his, hungrily. He moaned into the ‘bot’s mouth, his hands ranging across the broad back. Bluestreak’s hands were splayed out on his wings. His valve twinged, but Skywarp muffled it—this was too good to hurry. He did risk a glance over at Ironhide, unarmed, frowning fiercely in the corner, his eyes hot on Skywarp. Someone deserving of a good show. Skywarp pulled Bluestreak more passionately into an embrace, both gasping as their spikes butted against each other. Bluestreak hitched up his hips, and entered the Seeker with a profound sigh. His eyes closed, savoring. Skywarp worked his valve around the spike slowly, feeling Bluestreak shudder against him. His lips parted in surprise. “Oh!” he said.
“NO TALKING!”
Skywarp dropped his arms from around the Autobot’s shoulders, and turned on the berth to face Prowl. “Autobot, you are a fraggin’ moodkiller. Maybe you can fuck in complete silence, if indeed you fuck at all, but some of the rest of us can’t. If I have a problem with what he’s saying, I’ll let you know. Frag!” He pulled Bluestreak back down on top of him, spiralling the grips in his valve.
“Whoaaaaa,” the Autobot groaned. He rocked his hips back and forth experimentally. “Didn’t do this before.”
“Didn’t give me time,” Skywarp said. “Now, come on and take me.”
Bluestreak braced his weight on one hand, against Skywarp’s black armored shoulder, and began pushing, gently at first, at the valve. Skywarp writhed encouragingly. Bluestreak looked down their joined bodies, his armor bright against Skywarp’s, his silver spike sliding into the Seeker’s valve. His eye caught on the Seeker’s own spike and a moment later, his hand hovered above it. “Can I?”
In response, Skywarp shoved his hips up, pushing his spike into Bluestreak’s hand. Oh, this was just…heaven. Exactly what it would be with his Trine. Bluestreak stroked the spike gently, then more firmly, increasing pace to the thrusts he made into the valve. Skywarp alternated between squeezing the mech’s armor and grabbing for the metal berth. Bluestreak’s eyes were hot on his face.
Skywarp’s optics flashed wide open as the double overload hit him, fluid squirting from his spike at almost the exact instant Bluestreak overloaded inside his spasming valve. He yelled so hard his vocal processor shorted out at the high end. When he came back around, Bluestreak was still inside him, quivering. “Again?” the Autobot asked. Skywarp squeezed with his valve: Bluestreak’s spike was still fully extended. He had more than a few overloads left in him. “Oh fuck yeah,” Skywarp croaked.
His eye shot over to Ironhide had gone from shifting uncomfortably on his feet to trying to discretely tap at his codpiece. Spike must be stuck against it. Skywarp hoped it hurt.
“Can I take top?” he asked, and without waiting for an answer, squirmed out from under the Autobot. Prowl stepped forward, alarmed. Skywarp waved him off, as Bluestreak—a little quicker to catch on than Prowl—settled himself on his back. Skywarp threw one leg over and slowly settled himself down on the erect spike. He began slowly, raising and lowering himself on Bluestreak, his valve working in another twisting, squeezing combination that left Bluestreak gasping. Skywarp lowered his estimates: Maybe Bluestreak didn’t have that many overloads left in him, because Skywarp was trading quality for quantity. Still, he was young and randy as hell. Two in his favor. He wanted to blow the Autobot’s mind. Ruin him for fucking forever. And it didn’t hurt that Ironhide would be watching the whole thing. Finally appreciate what he was so callously drilling.
Bluestreak moaned a moan that didn’t stop until he overloaded again, just rose and fell in pitch and volume as he watched the spectacle of the Decepticon pleasuring himself on his spike, and felt the impossibly good sensation of the—whatever the frag was in that valve—working at him. He’d heard, yeah, and he’d thought that just doing a Seeker was good enough—one of the better fucks of his life, that one in the repair bay, the Seeker sprawled out wanton and howling with every thrust, his valve—Primus, strong enough to break First Aid’s finger?—squeezing at him. But this…this was something else. As he came, the Seeker paused, just long enough for Bluestreak to gather himself, that incredible valve pulling at his spike, refusing to let it even think of retracting. Skywarp began moving again, faster paced, more intense.
The Seeker overloaded on top of him—he felt a rush of hot fluid from the valve, the weight change—the Seeker bracing himself stiff armed on Bluestreak’s chest. “More?” he asked. Bluestreak yanked his wings down. “Yesssss.” He began thrusting into the Seeker.
Skywarp’s eye flew to Ironhide. Oh, no subtlety at all now: the warrior was openly stroking his spike. The only reason Prowl wasn’t disciplining him is that Prowl himself was…lost in unfamiliar territory for himself. Even from here Skywarp could see the glisten of lubricant leaking at his codpiece seam.
He quivered, arching his back into another overload. Ohhhhhh, he’d been right to ask for this Autobot. Beneath him, Bluestreak slowed down, gasping. “Need a break,” he said. “Sorry.”
Too many at once and the spike oversensitized. Skywarp could understand that, remembering a little too vividly wincing in his cell, in the throes of heat. “Other ways to get me off, Autobot,” he said, dismounting, carefully. “Like this?” he took some of the Autobot’s own lubricant on his fingers and plunged into Bluestreak’s own valve. The Autobot cried out. Yeah, Skywarp thought, know a bit more than your medics how to do this one, too.
“Can…can you take me?” Bluestreak moaned, tossing from side to side.
“Oh…fuck yeah,” Skywarp repeated. He shifted his legs and nudged his spike slowly into the Autobot. He pushed one of Bluestreak’s legs down, so the two watchers could get a better view as he began slowly thrusting his spike into the valve. Primus. Last valve he’d had had been—that annoying twin. Forever ago, it seemed. And before that…. Just a long stretch of his hand and his fantasies and…the wall. Soooo much better with an actual partner. SO much better with a partner who responded, like Bluestreak. Bluestreak was howling out the names of divinities from twenty different star systems, his hands clutching at Skywarp’s wings, his engine throttling high. He threw Skywarp’s name in his litany of gods. That sounded about right, Skywarp thought, and increased the pressure of his thrusting, driving his spike into the recessed node. They both overloaded together, Skywarp’s name still on Bluestreak’s lips, Skywarp smiling in satisfaction as his eye caught the silvery arc shooting from Ironhide’s rubbed spike.
Prowl recovered something like composure, with a not-so-well-disguised swab at his codpiece armor seam. “This does not treat your condition, Skywarp.” Well, at least he had the decency to wait til they were finished. Prowl seemed to have a kink for interrupting.
Bluestreak gasped, “Needed a break, I did. I asked for it. Primus, don’t punish him for that. For…that!” An aftershock ran through his body. He yanked the Seeker down onto him again.
“What about your condition, Prowl?”
“I do not have a condition.”
“Right.” Skywarp knocked hard on the codpiece, watching Prowl wince. “Now, leave us alone or join in.” He turned back to Bluestreak. “You?”
“I can finish what I started.” Skywarp grinned. “Sure about that?”
“Sure I can damn well try.” He shifted, pulling Skywarp’s spike out of him and pushing the Seeker down. Skywarp rolled to his belly: maybe Bluestreak liked it like Ironhide did? Skywarp wanted to see what Ironhide did watching someone else fuck the Seeker in his favorite position. Bluestreak turned him over. “Oh no, baby. Have to see your face. Want to.”
Baby? Whatever. Bluestreak was delivering the goods, and ‘baby’ was miles better than Ironhide’s filthy mouth. Skywarp flipped over, Bluestreak’s hands hot on his wings, teasing the flaps. He pulled Bluestreak against him. “Where were we?”
Bluestreak grinned—for the first time—and shifted so his spike planted itself in the Seeker’s valve. Skywarp moaned, his hands tugging at the Autobot’s hips, coaxing him forward and back. Bluestreak moved obediently. Oh, he was parsecs better than any of the other Autobots. Skywarp told him so, feeling the Autobot shove into him harder, aroused and flattered.
Skywarp didn’t feel the first explosions—he was at the point where he just presumed the sensation that the building was moving was part of his rising overload. It wasn’t until the wall caved in over his head that he realized what was going on.
Thundercracker transformed as he emerged through the new hole in the wall, weapons sweeping the room, locking on a surprised Prowl and a very alarmed Ironhide, who bent to cover his exposed spike. Thundercracker’s eyes went to Skywarp. “Skywarp what the FUCK---!”
“That’s what we’re trying to do, dammit,” Skywarp locked his hands around Bluestreak’s armor. Starscream burst in, and Bluestreak looked up to see a null ray a handspan from his face.
“So unnecessary,” Skywarp said. “Can you let me finish? Please? Kind of in heat here.”
“Oh you think WE don’t know that?” Starscream snapped. “Do you know how long it takes when there are only two of us?”
“NOT as long as alone, stuck with a bunch of Autobots! Now let me finish!” He turned back to Bluestreak. “Gun bothering you?” Bluestreak swallowed, shook his head, began moving slowly in Skywarp.
“Just don’t want him to blow my head off when you’re done.”
“Reasonable concern,” Thundercracker said. “Do we want to know why you’ve got an audience?”
“Probably not. But, seriously, don’t kill this one. He’s fucking awesome.” Skywarp purred gently, in time to Bluestreak’s thrusts, encouraging him.
“Really?” Starscream shot a measuring look at Bluestreak. “We have not yet finished ourselves, you know.”
Skywarp grinned at Bluestreak. “You up for it?” A shudder ran through Bluestreak’s body.
“You serious? Three of you?”
“Just for a few days.”
Bluestreak shuddered again inside Skywarp’s valve and began thrusting harder. Skywarp’s purring changed to a rising moan, fingers teasing the Autobot’s pelvic armor. Bluestreak lowered to his elbows, his face inches from Skywarp’s, eyes fixed on the Seeker’s face. Skywarp could feel Bluestreak’s overload building right against his own. He pulled the Autobot’s mouth against his as they both fell into overload, bodies writhing against each other.
“Oh yes,” Thundercracker said. He glared at Prowl and Ironhide. “We’ll be taking a hostage.”
“Yes,” Starscream agreed, licking his lips. “To…uh…to guarantee you do not attempt to….hinder our retreat.”

EPILOGUE
Message Originates:////Safir Hub Station
Contents://// Seven cycles ago, MIA Autobot gunner, designation Bluestreak, dumped outside main doors. No signs of injury. After five days of recharge solid, gunner awoke. Base trauma specialist hypothesizes Bluestreak underwent some horrific form of torture at the hands of Decepticon captors. Symptom: Subject WILL NOT STOP TALKING.
- 3
- 4
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Heat Seeker